The Serpent's Kiss
by KeepCalmAndWriteSomething
Summary: The war is over and the world struggles to put the shattered pieces of their lives back together. Meanwhile, Snape and Hermione have a chance encounter with a former supporter of Voldemort that leaves them magically bonded to each other. Now, they have to learn how to work together to overcome their predicament and deal with their battle scars. — SS/HG
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Scars and Nightmares**

Hermione breathed a frustrated sigh as her shoe sank into an inch of mud. It had rained for several days and the road through Hogsmeade was slowly disappearing under a layer of muck.

She was already rethinking her journey into the village, but she forced herself to push on. It was better than what was behind her at the castle.

Silence and broken things. Scars and nightmares. And emptiness in every room.

It was odd to be at Hogwarts when everyone else was home for the summer. She had sat in the empty Gryffindor Tower, amidst the shattered glass and crumbling walls. Trying to ignore the images that were forever branded in her mind.

Of course, the school wasn't completely empty. The staff and a handful of volunteers, including Hermione and a few of the Weasleys, had taken up the task of repairing the extensive damage that the battle had caused. However, only the staff were staying in the castle overnight. Apparition points had been set up for the rest of the workers.

They had been laboring for months now and they still weren't finished. The Quidditch pitch, after suffering major fire damage, had to be completely rebuilt. Several of the castle's towers had been damaged, along with the greenhouses and some of the other buildings on the grounds. And then there was the interior of the school itself; most of the paintings, furniture, and books were a wreck.

So much history destroyed so quickly. Hermione's heart broke every time she thought about it. Headmistress McGonagall, however, was optimistic that most of it would be repaired by the time the rest of the students returned in September.

As Hermione waded through another mud puddle, she noted that she'd finally reached the outskirts of the village. As she ambled along the main road, she tried to lose herself in the brightly colored storefronts. Tried to pretend that it was a simpler time.

With her feet on autopilot, she wandered down the main road, passing all of the shops where the students spent most of their time. Then, her eyes snapped to a man standing about ten feet in front of her. He had a camera clasped in his hands and when he saw Hermione, his eyes lit up.

The man started towards her. "Miss Granger! Would you mind if I took your picture for the paper?"

Another journalist.

A scowl overtook her features as her breath left her in a huff. Reporters from every periodical in the area had been hounding her for months. They would ask her question after question and take pictures of her every time she stepped outside. And then the next day she would find that she was the star of a new article that wasn't even half true.

She had risked her life for these people, and they couldn't even let her live the rest of it in peace.

Hermione quickly turned into the nearest building, neither knowing nor caring which one it actually was. Anything just to get away.

Severus Snape shoved the rickety door of The Hog's Head open with his shoulder and stepped inside. It was dark inside the small room and a lifetime of dirt clung to every surface. And that included the bar's patrons.

At least some things never change.

He moved to the bar and nodded to the man standing behind it. The bartender bent down and retrieved a grimy bottle of Firewhiskey, which he handed to Severus.

Snape slapped a coin down onto the bar and then turned to find an empty table. His eyes skimmed the crowd, and his fists clenched tightly around his drink as he realized that he recognized one of the patrons.

The man, who was already seated at a rather dingy table, seemed to recognize Snape at the same moment. The man's mouth hardened into a stern line as he gestured for Severus to join him.

With a sigh, Snape seated himself in the chair closest to the door. "Dominic Atherton. Why am I not surprised to see that you slithered out of another prison sentence?"

Atherton's smile was forced, and it showed his oddly small teeth. "Dear Severus, it's been a long time, hasn't it? I would say that I've missed you but I think we both know that would be a lie."

Snape scoffed, pried off the top of his Firewhiskey, and took a long swig. He lost himself in the fire that scorched its way from his mouth, through his throat, and into his stomach. He'd needed a drink for a long time and, after this encounter, he was going to need at least three more.

"What are you doing here, Atherton?"

The other man gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Just meeting a business associate. You know, I wasn't aware that you'd come back to Hogwarts. Maybe I should pop by for a visit sometime?" he said, malice dripping off of his words like poison.

"I don't believe that would be wise given your … _reputation."_

Dominic opened his mouth to make a retort, but whatever he was going to say was lost in the sound of the door opening and then slamming shut. Snape glanced towards the door and then did a double-take.

"Miss Granger?"

It had been a while since the last time he'd seen the girl. She seemed … different. She still wore her hair in the same way, every tendril springing out from her head in defiance. But the awkward angles of childhood had faded away and left slender curves in their place.

Though the thing that had undoubtedly changed the most were her eyes. These weren't the eyes of a child; they no longer retained the innocence that had brightened them during her school years. They were haunted now. They had seen evil.

And now that this woman was looking at him, they seemed to stare, not at him, but straight through to his soul.

* * *

Hermione had to put all of her weight into the door before it swung open with a loud, creaking sound. Shutting it quickly behind her before the reporter could follow, she glanced around what she immediately recognized as The Hog's Head.

"Miss Granger?"

She fought the urge to cringe; she would know that voice anywhere. It brought back memories of days spent over bubbling cauldrons and the freezing cold of the dungeons. Why did she feel like she was about to be scolded?

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," she said as she took a few steps towards him.

The weasel of a man sitting across from Snape watched her with beady eyes. "If it isn't Hermione Granger. The way the papers tell it, you were a big part of the Dark Lord's downfall." Then his gaze moved to Snape and he said, "Well, well. Playing with heroes, are we? And such a pretty one. What a shame that it's wasted on a Mudblood."

The man eyed her in a way that made her skin crawl. She felt like she needed a shower.

Hermione leaned across the table towards him, her brown eyes defiant. There was a small smirk playing on her lips as she spoke calmly. "Voldemort is gone. This Mudblood saw to that. So, you better watch what you say because there's no one for you to hide behind now."

Snape stood and gestured towards the door. She followed him outside without looking back at the man, but she heard him laugh darkly and mumble some retort.

Even the meager sunlight of the day was blinding after being in the gloomy tavern, and Hermione had to squint to see where she was going.

The reporter had apparently been lying in wait, but Snape moved past him without ever acknowledging his existence. Hermione decided to follow his lead, trying to ignore the steady snapping of pictures behind her.

He led her back down the main road, past the shops, towards the gates of Hogwarts. He was silent until they reached the edge of the village, and then he glanced down at her questioning face.

"Dominic Atherton is not someone whose company you want to be in. He was a big-time supporter of Voldemort."

"He was a Death Eater?" she asked, noticing that his expression tightened slightly at the mention of his former occupation.

"Not quite. More of a behind the scenes supporter. But still dangerous," he explained.

"Well, why isn't he in Azkaban?"

Snape scoffed. "It's likely that they didn't have enough proof. That man can weasel out of anything."

"Well, I think I handled that well. And if he wants to cause more trouble then I'll take care of it," Hermione replied confidently, tucking a piece of her unruly hair behind her ear.

Her professor stopped and turned to look down at her. They were standing on the cobblestone steps that led to the front door of the school.

"Typical brash, little Gryffindor. Always rushing in with their wands blazing," he said, his dark eyes staring into hers. Then with a swirl of his robes, he left her standing quite alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: The Hospital Wing**

There was fire in Hermione's veins. She was burning alive from the inside out.

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think straight. Couldn't even open her mouth to scream.

She was going to die to die sprawled out on the stone floor and no one would ever know what had happened.

And then there were hands clutching at her. Voices asking her what was wrong. She tried to tell them to go away but couldn't find the words. Hermione felt herself being lifted, and the cool stone was replaced by a scratchy fabric. She was surrounded by white and recognized, somewhere deep within her, that she was in the Hospital Wing.

The hands were back again. Poking and prodding and pouring liquids down her throat that made her choke. She tried to slap them away, but she couldn't work up the energy.

Suddenly, there was the pale face of Professor Snape hovering above her. She felt his cool hands on her as he examined her.

Then it was over.

The pain was gone and Hermione choked out a sob of relief. She grabbed the man's hand with all of her remaining strength. Clutched at it as if it was a bit of driftwood and she was drowning.

And then she fell into darkness.

* * *

When Hermione returned to herself, her vision was still hazy. She blinked a few times and the Hospital Wing slowly came into focus. After a few confused moments, she realized she was being watched.

Headmistress McGonagall sat in a chair pulled up to her bedside. She looked exhausted and worry dominated her usually stern expression. "I'm glad you're finally awake."

Hermione nodded. She had to clear her throat several times before she could speak. "What happened?"

The older woman sighed and leaned forward to place a hand on hers. "You collapsed in the Gryffindor common room. One of the paintings alerted us to your condition."

"What's wrong with me?" she whispered. She felt tears burning at her eyes and turned her face away so the other would not see.

McGonagall hesitated, and when she spoke her voice sounded strained. "We're not sure. While you were in the midst of your … episode, Madam Pomfrey gave you many different potions, tried Healing spells and counter-curses. Nothing seemed to help. And then it just stopped."

Hermione sank back onto her pillows and closed her eyes. Her fingers clutched at the rough blanket that was covering her. "All I remember is the pain. I don't think I've ever felt anything like it before."

The headmistress appeared sympathetic. She patted Hermione's hand again and said, "You should stay here for a while. Get some rest. Madam Pomfrey will be in her office; all you need to do is shout. I think I'm going to go talk to Albus. If only he were really here. He always knew what to do."

* * *

The next time the pain began to set into her bones, she gave a panicked shout for Madam Pomfrey. The gray-haired witch came scurrying out of her office with the same worried expression that the headmistress had given her.

It wasn't a reassuring sight. They hadn't been exaggerating when they said that they had no idea what they were dealing with.

"It'll be alright, dear. I'll be right back. I have to send for the others. Just stay calm."

Hermione bit back the harsh words that popped into her head. Stay calm. What a bloody load of bollocks.

She ground her teeth as the pain gradually intensified. Pomfrey was back and she had several tiny bottles in tow. She made some motions over Hermione with her wand, but nothing happened.

The woman made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat and then reached for one of the bottles. Unstoppering it, she held it up to Hermione's mouth. "Here, drink this, dearie."

Whatever it was tasted like tar water and made her gag. There was the echoing sound of hastened footsteps and McGonagall and Snape were at her bedside.

"Good, you're here. It just started again. The same as the last time," Pomfrey told the other two while gesturing towards her.

Every single one of Hermione's muscles was clenched; her body was on fire again. She glanced up at Snape, noting his guarded expression. His dark eyes were watching her carefully and his lips had thinned almost to nonexistence.

Very cautiously, he reached out and placed his hand on her clenched fist. Hermione's body went limp on the bed as the pain drifted away again. She glanced up at him with wide eyes.

He returned her gaze with a look that said his suspicions had just been confirmed.

* * *

Hermione was reclined on the bed with several pillows propping up her head. She was staring up at the ceiling, trying to distract herself from the trembling that had taken over her body. Her third episode, as the staff had taken to calling them, had just ended. And no matter what they tried, no amount of spells or potions or herbs seemed to have any effect.

Only his touch seemed to calm the fire in her blood.

And still, they had no idea what was happening. The staff was currently crowded in Pomfrey's tiny office; they had been there for at least an hour already. More than once, she thought she'd heard shouting.

They were probably debating whether or not to put her out of her misery. Hermione chuckled at that thought, but there was no humor in the sound.

Looking for some way to entertain herself, she began to count the number of tiles that made up the ceiling of the Hospital Wing. When she had counted forty-eight, the door of the office swung open and slammed violently against the stone wall.

Severus Snape stalked out of the room, his features consumed in a black fury. He did not stop to look at her or anyone else, instead heading straight for the door. Hermione had only seen him angry a few times before and wondered what could have riled him up.

She watched as the rest of the staff trickled out of the Hospital Wing. Some of them shot her apologetic glances. Only Professor McGonagall remained with a somewhat forced smile on her face. She came to sit in the chair by the bed.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Well, Miss Granger, we were just having a long discussion about your situation. Because we don't know how long this will continue, we believe certain arrangements should be made."

Hermione's stomach clenched. The other woman was being too placating for this to be anything but more bad news.

"What kind of arrangements?"

"Well," McGonagall began in a faltering voice. "We believe that it would be best for you to stay in Professor Snape's quarters during the evenings. After all, it wouldn't be practical to have the both of you running back and forth across the castle all day."

Hermione's mind seemed to stop functioning for a moment. She stared at the other woman, waiting for her to say that she was joking. But of course, she was rarely the joking type.

"Excuse me, Headmistress. I mean this in the most respectful way, but have you lost your mind?" she said.

McGonagall took on a somewhat exasperated look. "I think those were Professor Snape's words as well. I know that neither one of you are happy about this situation, but we'll all just have to make the best of it. Besides, it's only until we find out what has happened to you."

"That man has hated me since the day I got here! You can't seriously expect this to end well," Hermione cried, her voice taking on a rather shrill tone.

"Are you or are you not both adults?" McGonagall's usual stern decorum had returned and the way she eyed Hermione said that she would accept no more on the subject.

Not willing to risk the other woman's ire, Hermione closed her mouth. She was still unwilling to accept this. It just seemed so unfair. Why did these things always happen to her? She had been fighting for so long and now all she wanted was peace and quiet. But apparently, the universe was conspiring against her.

"I am very sorry. Believe me when I say that we'll be using all of our available resources to discover what's happened to you. Now, Professor Snape has gone to prepare his quarters; he should be back any moment. And tomorrow morning, we will figure out where to go from here."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. "What about the Weasleys? I've been staying at the Burrow. What am I supposed to tell them?"

"You will write them tomorrow and let them know that you have been offered quarters here at Hogwarts. I don't think it would be wise to tell them the details. And that goes for Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley as well," McGonagall said, giving her a pointed look.

She heard the sound of footsteps again, and when she looked up Snape was standing just the inside of the door. It seemed like the brunt of his anger had faded. Or maybe he'd just learned how to hide it a long time ago.

The headmistress gave her one last reassuring smile. "Go with Professor Snape, my dear. He'll show you to where you'll be staying. I'll see you at breakfast."

Hermione nodded reluctantly and, after shaking the stiffness from her body, followed her professor from the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Into the Lair of the Beast**

Hermione followed her professor down, down, down into the gloom of the dungeons. Apparently, he hadn't moved his quarters after he had taken up the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. She couldn't imagine why. Even in the middle of August, there was a persistent chill that seeped into your bones.

She glanced towards her professor warily. If he had even the slightest desire to hex her into oblivion (and he certainly looked like he did) now would be the perfect opportunity. There would be no one around save her.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said through clenched teeth.

Her head immediately tilted toward the ground, even before she had decided to do so. She frowned but quickly forgot about it as Snape came to a stop at a painting of a dark, withered cluster of trees. A slight sense of foreboding swept over her as she watched something move restlessly just beyond the tree line. Hermione couldn't quite make out what it was.

Her professor leaned towards the painting and said, "Hemlock."

The painting swung outward to reveal a passageway that he quickly ducked into. He gestured for her to follow him and she did, stooping slightly to fit through the door. With a flick of his wand, flames sprung to life in the sconces that adorned the stone walls.

The room they were standing in was a decently sized sitting room. There were bookshelves on almost every wall and a roaring fireplace against another. Several plush, forest green armchairs were scattered about the room and a lone sofa was situated in front of the hearth.

Hermione's heart clenched at the sight of all of those books. It made her feel slightly better about her predicament. After all, she had always equated a happy life with a large library. She took a few steps closer and ran her fingers along the spine of a particularly dusty volume.

Then she remembered where she was and turned back to Snape, shooting him a slightly abashed look. He was watching her, his expression inscrutable. There was a heartbeat of hesitation and she shifted awkwardly under his gaze.

Then he moved to one of the armchairs and lowered himself into it. He nodded to another chair that sat across from it and said, "Have a seat, Miss Granger."

Just when she was about to open her mouth to tell him she would much rather remain standing, her body, once again, betrayed her. She felt herself move and sit down in the chair, even though she hadn't wanted to do so. She let out a tiny squeak of surprise, and her eyebrows shot upwards.

Hermione's stomach clenched. So, she definitely hadn't been imagining things earlier. He had told her to do something, and she had had no choice but to obey. Was this another part of … whatever this thing was? _Obedience?_ To _him,_ of all people?

"What?" he snapped.

Her eyes widened, and, shaking her head, she muttered, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

It wasn't that she didn't trust him, because she did. He had done more than enough during the war to earn her, and everyone else's, trust. After all, he had been exonerated by the Wizengamot. But there was something deep in her soul that said she shouldn't tell him.

"Tell me."

Oh, no. She hadn't expected that. Hermione bit her lip painfully, trying frantically to stop the words that threatened to spill from her lips. "I think I am being forced to obey you." She groaned and covered her mouth with her hands.

"What was that?" he asked again, an eyebrow arched.

Surrendering, she dropped her hands to her side and gave him a resigned look. "I said I think whatever is happening is forcing me to obey you."

For a moment, he merely looked dubious. Gradually, his expression changed from disbelieving to a burning curiosity. "Stand up."

She stood.

"Jump."

She jumped.

"Touch your nose."

Her fingers came up to lightly skim over her nose. Hermione pursed her lips. "Alright, that's enough!"

The ghost of a smirk crossed his lips, and for a brief instant, she worried what he would do with this information. But no devilish grin crossed his lips; no mischievous look entered his eyes. Nothing at all to suggest he was about to take advantage. She sighed with relief as he merely nodded in a scholarly manner.

"I have no idea what this could be. But I think that it has something to do with Dominic Atherton," Snape said. "Until we get this mess sorted out, I will be careful with what I say around you."

He then stood and passed through the doorway at the back of the room. She hesitated, unsure of whether she was supposed to follow him.

After a moment, she took a few steps and peeked around the edges of the door jamb. The next room was the bedroom, decked out in the same shade of green as the sitting room. She could see into the bathroom through the open door on the left. Snape stood his back to her, beside a large, four-poster bed that dominated the area. He turned and, seeing her position, rolled his eyes and gestured for her to enter.

As she entered the room, she noticed a smaller bed tucked against the wall. Hermione's face flushed when she realized that was where she was supposed to sleep. Her stomach squirmed pitifully. At least the two beds were as far away from each other as possible.

He nodded towards the trunk at the end of her bed. "The house elves have already brought your things. If you need anything, I'm sure they would be more than happy to assist you."

Hermione managed a polite smile. "Thank you, Professor."

She watched him, unsure of what to do next. The squirming returned to her stomach. At least he seemed to be just as lost and uncertain as she did.

He hesitated for a time, and then took a few awkward steps forward. He extended his arm towards her, palm up. Confused, she merely stared at him before realizing what it was he was trying to do. She offered her hand, and he reached out to her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. The contact only lasted for a few seconds before he jerked his hand back, as though her touch had scalded him. But it would be enough to give her a few hours of sleep uninhibited by pain.

* * *

Hermione was awoken from her restless sleep by the ache that had settled into her body. Her breath escaped her in a hiss as she curled into the fetal position on the bed. She blinked her eyes to clear the sleep from them and squinted through the darkness.

There was a large, put-upon sigh from the other side of the room. Then, the creaking of the bed and heavy footsteps. She could just make out her professor's outline as he stood beside her bed. Her face burned as she offered her hand to him.

His fingers skimmed across hers before he retreated to his own bed. "I can see I won't be getting a decent night's sleep any time soon," he grumbled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Curses and Weasel Men**

The next time Hermione woke, it was caused by the feeling of a hand brushing hers. When she finally managed to crack open her eyes, she was met with the sight of Snape standing over her. She startled, and his eyes narrowed in response.

"I am going to breakfast now. Don't be late; Headmistress McGonagall is expecting you."

She lay there a moment longer until she heard the painting close behind him. Hermione groaned and buried her face in the pillow. She was so exhausted that she didn't think she would have the energy to get out of bed. Hermione's stomach rumbled loudly.

Food was a good incentive.

She rolled out of bed, went to her trunk to gather her clothes, and trotted off to the bathroom to begin her morning routine. When it was complete, she searched around the sitting room for some parchment, ink, and a quill. Hermione hastily wrote a letter to the Weasley family, explaining where she was. She made her excuses and asked Ginny to watch over Crookshanks for her.

Her heart ached to tell them the truth. Surely, they would have some comforting words for her. But she saw McGonagall's point. The fewer people who knew about this predicament, the better. She didn't want to think about what would happen if the wrong person found out. She pocketed the letter and set off on the long journey to the Great Hall.

As she trudged through the open doors of the hall, she noticed McGonagall beckoning her to the staff table. Sometimes, some of the other workers would join them for meals, but so far, the hall was empty except for Hermione and the staff members.

"Have a seat, my dear," the headmistress told her as she pointed to the chair to her left. Severus, looking rather bitter, sat to McGonagall's right. She gave Hermione a moment to be seated and help herself to a bagel before asking, "How are you feeling, Miss Granger?"

Hermione squirmed in her seat as every eye at the table fixed on her. "I feel fine, for now. The pain still comes and goes. And …" she trailed off uneasily as she met Snape's eyes.

"There's been a new development," he supplied. "It seems," he lowered his voice even though there was no one to overhear him, "as though there is another effect. Miss Granger must be obedient. To me."

There was an outbreak of muttering along the table. McGonagall's lips pursed and she gave a deep sigh. "This is simply awful. I am so sorry that you're in this position, Miss Granger. And Severus, I'm sure I don't have to tell you to have caution when you speak."

"Of course, Minerva," he replied. He was staring at the plate in front of him, pushing the food around but not eating it.

"I'm afraid that I've some more bad news," the headmistress continued. "I've had a chat with Albus, and he agreed with my belief that we are dealing with some sort of dark curse. Unfortunately, he doesn't know which one it could be."

Hermione's stomach dropped. She had been holding out hope that the former headmaster would know what they were dealing with. It hadn't really occurred to her that he might never have encountered it either. Dumbledore had always seemed so omniscient. Even beyond the grave.

"Now, Miss Granger," McGonagall began as she rested her stern gaze on the young woman. "Do you have any idea who did this?"

Hermione met Snape's gaze once more. She cleared her throat and then proceeded to tell her of the events that had transpired in The Hog's Head.

There was a fire in the older woman's eyes. "Well, those are very suspicious circumstances. Dominic Atherton, really? I think I recall Albus having a few unpleasant encounters with that weasel. The Ministry should have thrown him behind bars a long time ago. I'm going to write the Minister immediately. I trust that everyone will be discrete with this information."

There was a lot of nodding and murmurs of agreement. McGonagall stood to leave and then turned back to Hermione once more. "I assume you will be continuing with the repairs. I think it would be best if the two of you remained in close proximity to one another." Then, she turned once more and headed towards the door.

Professor Snape stood and followed the headmistress. "I'll be working on the classrooms on the first floor," he called back to her.

After finishing her breakfast, she excused herself to the Owlery. Once her letter was off in the claws of a great tawny owl, she made the trek back down to the first floor. Cursing how large the castle was the whole way there.

Hermione had to search several classrooms before she found the one Snape was working in. Snape stood at the far end, his wand raised. She watched the fluid movements of his arm as he levitated bits of the ceiling back into place. It was a bit … hypnotic.

She shook herself out of her trance and glanced around, wondering where to begin. The room was quite damaged; there was rubble from where sections of the ceiling had fallen and the windows were all shattered. And every piece of furniture was either broken or on its side.

Hermione made her way to the nearest window, deciding to start there. She pointed her wand at the shards of glass, said the incantation, and watched as they rose up into the air and drifted into place. She repeated the motion until the window was whole once more, and then she moved on to the next.

She tried to focus on what she was doing so that she didn't have to think about her situation. But the work was tedious and she was quickly bored. So, her mind began to replay the events of the past few days.

Hermione agreed with the others' belief that Atherton had cursed her. Who else could it have been? Since the Ministry would soon be involved, they would be able to locate him quickly. Once he was in custody, they would be able to remove the curse. And she could get on with her life.

Everything would work out. It had to. She just had to be patient.

She had finished with an entire wall of windows when she heard footsteps. Hermione turned slightly and saw that Severus stood behind her. He had removed his dark robes and now wore just a white button-up shirt and black trousers. She could see the scar that Nagini had left, pale and shiny, peeking out from his collar.

Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She had never seen him out of his robes before and there was something strangely intimate about it. Of course, she understood his reason; it was rather warm in this room. Still, she had to take a deep breath before she turned to face him fully.

"It's been a couple of hours," he explained, his hand outstretched. She reached out and their hands glided across each other. And then it was over and he had moved back to his side of the room.

The rest of the day passed in silence, with the exception of mealtimes. They were, of course, spent discussing the curse and its effects. They made no further progress on the subject, though.

At the end of the day, she followed Snape back to his quarters. He went to one of the many bookshelves and pulled down a heavy tome. "I'm going to do a little research of my own. I don't trust those dunderheads down at the Ministry to do it properly. How any of them got their jobs, I will never know."

Hermione watched him sink gracefully into a chair and prop the book open on his knee. She felt that awkward squirming again and she cleared her throat. "I think I'm going to go to bed. Goodnight, Professor."

He nodded his head, his eyes still on his book. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

She dragged herself to her bed, which she fell in without even changing her clothes. She didn't have enough energy to care anymore. Hermione didn't think she'd ever been this tired. The exhaustion had seeped into her very soul.

She didn't want to think about curses or weasel men or her professor anymore. She closed her eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Meeting the Minister**

The next morning, McGonagall told Hermione that she had spoken to the Minister. He would be arriving at Hogwarts today to speak to the two of them. The Headmistress was kindly allowing them the use of her office for the meeting.

So, a little before noon, they arrived at the Headmistress' office. Snape muttered the password, something she didn't quite catch, to the gargoyle and it leaped aside. She followed him up the staircase and he knocked on the heavy, wooden door. There was a deep voice from within and the door opened on its own.

Hermione hadn't been in this room many times, but she was happy to see that not much had changed since Dumbledore had died. She thought that there were a few new apparatuses lining some of the tables, probably added by McGonagall when she'd taken over the position. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore, who was slumbering quite peacefully at the moment, hung on the wall behind the desk.

This room, at least, had remained constant. She wasn't sure why that pleased her.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, tall and imposing, leaned against the desk in the center of the room. He smiled when he saw them and he moved forward to shake their hands.

"Good to see you both again. I wish it was under better circumstances, of course. Now, Minerva has told me all about this awful situation. But, if you don't mind, I'd like to hear it directly from the source."

Hermione nodded and recounted the tale that she had told so many times over the last days. Snape was mostly silent, occasionally adding a detail or two. When they got to the part about the obedience, Shacklebolt held up a hand to stop them.

"Yes, Minerva mentioned that as well. That is rather odd. Would you mind demonstrating it?"

Hermione balked and glanced at Severus. He was watching her with a raised brow. She nodded and said, "I suppose that would be alright. Go ahead, Professor."

She watched as his lips thinned as if he were uncomfortable with being put on display. Hermione could certainly relate to that. For a week now, she'd had to deal with even more stares and pitying glances than usual. It was beginning to grate on her.

"Come here, Miss Granger."

Hermione was reminded of the time in her fourth year when she'd been witness to the Imperius Curse. She remembered Harry putting up a resistance to the curse, and so she focused every ounce of willpower she possessed into remaining still. She felt a sort of prickly sensation sweep over her; her whole body was stinging. The more she fought it, the worse it became until her entire being was scorching.

It was no use; she wasn't strong enough. Her breath left her in a great rush as she released control. She felt her body move to stand in front of him. She hadn't lasted more than a minute.

There was a darkness lurking behind his eyes as Snape leaned towards her and held out his hand. "Give me your wand."

Her eyes widened and a noise of indignation sounded from the back of her throat. She removed her wand from the pocket of her robes and gently placed it in his hand. Hermione scowled and began to mentally amass a list of all the names that she wanted to call him.

He turned to Kingsley with a sneer. "Was that demonstration adequate?"

The minister looked horrorstruck. He was silent for a long time, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Then, he nodded and said, "I want you to know that we will be doing everything in our power to resolve this situation."

There was the sound of a throat clearing. Everyone in the room, including the portraits, glanced toward the frame of Albus Dumbledore. He was no longer sleeping, and Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he'd just been pretending.

"Hello, Minister. Always a pleasure to see you," Dumbledore said politely as he peered down at them.

"Good afternoon, Albus. I'm assuming that you've heard what's happened. Have you ever encountered anything like this before?"

Dumbledore's eyes were grave behind his spectacles. "When Minerva asked me that question, the answer was no. However, now that I have observed the full range of effects of this spell, my answer has changed. With the bouts of pain that forces you to remain in proximity to one another and Miss Granger's obedience, I now believe that this is a bonding spell."

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. Still, when she spoke her voice cracked. "What kind of bonding spell?"

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, a few hundred years ago, these spells were quite popular. They would typically use them when an arranged marriage occurred; especially if the wife was uncooperative. It would force the woman to be obedient to her husband."

The silence in the room was suffocating. Hermione's mouth had dropped open at some point and Snape, if possible, was looking even paler than usual.

"Well," Hermione began, her voice having risen to a shriek, "you must know how to break this spell, right? There has to be a way!"

Dumbledore's expression became pacifying. "It's rather difficult to answer that question. There were many different versions of this spell, specifically tailored to each family's needs. Unfortunately, as far as I know, there is no counter-curse."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. No counter-curse? She felt like she was barreling towards a panic attack. This wasn't possible. There had to be a way to fix this. Her mind was reeling from the idea of being stuck with that man forever.

"I will not accept this!" Snape was apoplectic. His chest was heaving and he seemed to almost shake with rage. "There has to be something. Some obscure counter-spell … I will not rest until I find it."

He suddenly whirled to face her and she quailed in the face of his fury. "This is your fault," he said, shaking a finger at her.

She scoffed and her voice rose an octave when she screeched, "My fault? How do you figure this is my fault?"

Snape's dark eyes were burning her alive. "If you hadn't provoked that man, we wouldn't be here. But no, the poor, little Gryffindor had her feelings hurt. So, she had to puff out her chest and make everyone see how tough she is."

Hermione's mouth fell open again. "Well, I wasn't just going to sit back and let him talk to me like that. It might not have bothered you, but I've been fighting against that sort of prejudice since the day I found out that I was a witch."

He took a few steps towards her so that he towered over her. "Of course, what he said wasn't acceptable. But there is a time for chivalry and self-righteousness and there is a time to hold your tongue. And because you can't tell the difference, we are stuck with each other. Ten points to Gryffindor for your brilliance," he said scathingly.

"Enough!" Dumbledore's voice echoed in the large room. "Severus, why don't you go take a walk? When you're calm, you may return."

Snape rolled his eyes at the older man. He returned her wand and then stalked from the room, making sure to slam the door behind him. Hermione winced at the sound. And when she met the twinkling gaze of her former Headmaster, she fell to pieces. She buried her face in her hands as angry tears began to pour.

"There, there, Miss Granger. You mustn't take what he says to heart. He doesn't really mean it. Severus has always been rather hopeless at dealing with his emotions and so he resorts to lashing out. He is having just as difficult a time with this as you are."

Hermione didn't believe him. She knew exactly how Snape felt about her; she could feel it in his gaze and the way he spoke to her. The man absolutely loathed her. But she didn't want to pour her heart out in front of the Minister, who was now looking a bit uncomfortable at the turn the situation had taken. So, she merely nodded without meeting Dumbledore's eyes.

Shacklebolt smiled in an attempt to comfort her. "Now that we have some sort of idea of what we're dealing with, I think our next move should be to send for a Curse-Breaker. Maybe they will know of something that could help. Of course, I will stress that this is a highly confidential matter."

Hermione nodded again as she brushed the last of the tears from her eyes. "Thank you both. If that's all, I think I'll be going now. I have a lot to think about."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: A Torrid Love Affair**

Hermione breathed a deep sigh as she sat down in her usual seat at the staff table. She kept her eyes on her plate in front of her; she didn't dare glance around the room. She knew that if she did, he would be glaring at her. Her professor seemed to be angrier than usual today. Hermione closed her eyes and began to rub at her throbbing temples.

She'd just came from a session with two highly trained Curse-Breakers. Snape had been there too, scowling at her the entire time. The Curse-Breakers had started off with the simple counter-spells. Gradually, the magic became more advanced and their expressions more puzzled. Eventually, they had admitted defeat but promised to research the problem.

It was just as Dumbledore had predicted. There was no counter-spell. There was no escape. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind because if she dwelled on it too long it would consume her. It was a great, black abyss that was just waiting for her to slip so that it could drag her down into its darkness.

Hermione would not surrender. She had to have hope. After all, what else was there?

There was a thick tension settled over the staff table, and Hermione could feel Snape still boring a hole into the side of her head. She finished her lunch in silence. She noticed a discarded edition of The Daily Prophet lying on the table and she eagerly reached for it. Hermione hadn't had time to read today's paper because of all of the excitement.

She began to scan the front page. There wasn't really anything noteworthy, other than the Ministry catching another Death Eater that had been on the run. Several of them had fled after the war, and they were still working to chase them down.

Then, she turned the page and her heart stopped. Oh, no. She looked up at Snape in horror. Well, that would explain why he'd been so furious all day. And why no one else would meet her gaze.

She swallowed thickly and turned back to the paper. Staring back at her was a picture of herself and Snape. It was taken the day this whole mess had started. The day when Snape had led her out of The Hog's Head and they had been ambushed by that photographer.

In the picture, neither one of them was facing the camera. But you could clearly see the sides of their faces. Snape was his usual dignified self, but Hermione's face was etched with fury and her hair resembled something like a lion's mane. Above the picture was the headline, " _ **Reformed Death Eater and War Heroine Secretly Meet**_ ".

Below that was an article that mentioned that they'd been seen leaving a pub together. The writer went on to say that he'd heard from certain reliable sources that the pair were actually dating and that they met in a different inn every week to carry out their intimate relations.

The throbbing in Hermione's head intensified. Just when she'd been absolutely sure that things couldn't get any worse. She was sure that the universe was having a laugh at her expense.

Why couldn't the newspapers bother someone else for a change? How was she going to explain this to Harry and Ron? And what was the Weasley family going to think?

She could feel Snape leering at her again, but, suddenly, Hermione couldn't meet his gaze. No doubt he blamed her for this like he did everything else. The words "intimate relations" seemed branded onto her brain. Hermione cringed inwardly as a fierce blush settled on her face.

The idea was simply absurd. Not that she didn't find him handsome. Ever since the other day when she'd seen Snape without his robes, there was something darkly attractive about him. Something forbidden and enticing. Something she couldn't shake.

So, it wasn't that she couldn't picture herself with someone like him. It was that he had never shown a romantic interest in anyone. It had only ever been Harry's mother. Snape hadn't just put her up on a pedestal. In his mind, Lily was a great monolith that no one could ever hope to reach.

But, Hermione had to admit, even if that hadn't been an issue, he still would have never chosen her. In his eyes, Hermione was just a silly child. An annoyance. Someone who had come into his life and wrecked it. Even if it wasn't intentionally.

Hermione glanced down at the picture once more and then pulled out her wand. With a whispered incantation, the newspaper was reduced to a pile of ashes on the table.

* * *

Hermione blinked as the sunlight was blocked by a frenzy of wings. Pigwidgeon was fluttering excitedly in the air above where she was laying. She rose from the spot by the lake where she'd been relaxing and took the letter that was tied to the bird's leg. Hermione chuckled as the tiny owl performed a flip and then flitted off.

She sat back down on the ground, staring at the letter with a sense of dread pooling in her stomach. She was sure that she knew what this letter would be about. Hermione didn't really want to open it. Heaving a deep sigh, she opened the parchment, instantly recognizing Harry's cramped scrawl.

 _Hermione,_

 _I'm sure you've seen today's issue of The Daily Prophet by now. Ron is having a conniption, but I told him that it can't be true. After all, I know better than anyone what lies the papers can sometimes print._

 _But Ron insisted that I write you just to make sure. He wanted me to ask you what you were doing in Hogsmeade with Snape in the first place._

 _I wish there was time to visit you, but this Auror training is taking up all of our time. We really miss you, Hermione._

 _Harry_

Hermione cringed. McGonagall had told her that she wasn't supposed to tell anyone. So, she would have to make up more excuses. She was beginning to feel suffocated under the weight of all these lies. Someone was bound to catch on eventually. And what then?

She pocketed the letter, intending to respond to it later. Hermione stared up at the pinpricks of stars that were slowly becoming visible. It was late evening and she could feel the pain starting to creep over her. She stood somewhat reluctantly and headed in the direction of the door.

After today, she was a bit hesitant to return to the dungeons. There would be nothing to save her from Snape's fury. Of course, he had every right to be mad. She just wished that he would stop acting like she meant for all of this to happen.

When she reached the painting outside of his quarters, Hermione stood there for a long time. Eventually, the pain forced her to whisper the password and scurry inside. Snape was sitting on the couch reading in front of the roaring fireplace. He didn't look up when she entered, even though she knew he must have heard her.

There was another moment of hesitation. She was afraid that if she spoke, he would turn his wrath on her. And that was something she didn't think that she could handle right now. She considered just continuing on to the bedroom, but she knew she wouldn't be able to cope with the pain. Not for very long, anyway.

She cleared her throat once and when he still didn't look up, she timidly moved to sit at the other end of the couch. Hermione didn't want to provoke him, so, instead of looking at him, she stared into the flames.

"Professor?" she said, offering her hand to him.

Without ever moving his gaze from his book, his fingers brushed hers. She felt the pain ease away and Hermione muttered a thank you. She leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes, the crackling of the hearth lulling her into a state of relaxation.

"I'm sorry," she said. Her eyes were still closed. This would be easier if she didn't have to look at him.

She heard the sound of a book closing. She imagined that he was staring at her again. "For?"

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "For what they said in The Daily Prophet today."

Snape made a noise, something like unamused laughter. "It's not like they haven't said worse things about me."

Hermione couldn't disagree with that. During the war, the things they had printed about him had been vicious. "I suppose, but they still shouldn't pry into our personal lives."

"You mean our torrid love affair?"

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She was immediately lost in his dark gaze. "I … well … yes."

She thought that she saw the corners of his mouth twitch ever so slightly. "Are you blushing, Miss Granger?"

"What? Of course not!" she stammered. "Um … if you'll excuse me, Professor, I should probably get to bed. It's getting late."

Hermione didn't wait for his response and practically ran to the bedroom. She threw herself down on her bed, burying her face in the pillow. She remained that way until the fierce blush faded from her cheeks and sleep took her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven: Firewhiskey Dreams**

Hermione bolted upright in her bed, breathing heavily. There was a thin sheen of cold sweat covering her body. She placed a hand over her racing heart and tried to calm herself. After several moments, her hands were still shaking, so she climbed out of bed and padded silently to the sitting room.

It was the same nightmare that she always had. Cold hands pinned her to the floor while murderous eyes glared into hers. And then the pain and the screaming and begging for it to be over. Hermione tried to put it from her mind, but it seemed like it was always there. Just waiting to devour her.

She moved to sit on the couch and realized that her professor was already there. He clutched a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. His eyes followed her as she sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

"It's three o'clock in the morning, Miss Granger."

Hermione tucked her feet beneath her and settled back into the cushions. She watched the fire dance in the hearth, casting odd shadows onto the room. "I … had a nightmare."

Snape nodded and took a long swig of his drink. She eyed the sloshing liquid curiously. "Why are you drinking?"

She braced for his anger, sure that he was going to scream at her to mind her own business. But he only said, "Why not?"

Hermione was stunned at his response. Exactly how drunk was he? Deciding to press her luck, she held her breath and asked, "Is something wrong, Professor?"

She could see the anger in his gaze, but it seemed somewhat subdued. Snape let out a snort of derision and his eyes narrowed. "No, Miss Granger. Everything is just grand."

She winced inwardly when she realized what a dumb question that had been. His gaze had trapped her and she couldn't look away. "Do you think the Curse-Breakers will find anything?"

He took another swallow from the bottle. There was a long moment of silence. When he spoke, his voice was rough. "No, I don't."

Her stomach plummeted. Somewhere deep within her, Hermione had expected him to say that. But it still hurt. "So, what do we do?" she asked meekly.

"Atherton is the key to all of this. We have to find him. And then, he will answer for all of our sufferings."

Hermione ran a hand through her wild hair. She felt slightly nervous at the dark expression that had settled on the man's face. She was sure that she didn't want to know what he meant by that.

She huffed, leaning forward to take the bottle from his hands. He raised a single brow at her and pulled it away before she could. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Hermione kept her hand held out. She rolled her eyes. "I'm of age."

He did not relent. "Yes, and you are also a student. My student."

"Technically, not right now. The term hasn't started yet."

Snape made a noise of aggravation and thrust the bottle at her. "Fine, you bloody harpy. Here."

She marveled again at this mellower Snape. That should have never worked. Not in a million years. "Thank you, sir."

He was watching her intently, so Hermione braced herself and tipped the bottle back. She'd had alcohol a few times before, but it had always been weaker than this. The liquid set her throat on fire and seared its way through her body. She spluttered and handed the bottle back to him.

"How can you drink that?" she managed to choke out.

Her professor shook his head and muttered something about lightweights. Hermione giggled and then, seeing the look on Snape's face, the giggles grew into full peals of laughter. She wasn't sure what was so funny, but every time she looked at him, she would collapse into laughter again.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was actually having a civil conversation with Severus Snape. And they were drinking together. The very notion seemed absolutely ridiculous, and yet here they were.

And then it happened. The corners of Snape's mouth turned up and he chuckled. And all Hermione could do was grin at him like an idiot, because she'd never seen him smile before.

Hermione's heart fluttered. He was so very handsome when he looked at her like that. It was a shame that he kept it hidden. "You have a very nice smile."

She flushed when he didn't respond. There was something concealed just behind the dark eyes that were now scorching her. But, for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what it was. There was a long moment where he just stared at her. And then, finally, he said, "Why don't you go to sleep, Miss Granger?"

At his words, she realized just how exhausted she was. These days, it seemed like she was always tired. She nodded her head and murmured a goodnight to her professor.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," he said, still gazing at her strangely.

* * *

Hermione breathed a huff of frustration. She was trying and failing, to concentrate on the work she was doing to repair one of the corridors. The source of her difficulty was at the opposite end of the hall, patiently restoring one of the statues to its former glory.

Every few minutes she would send a glance in Snape's direction. Usually, he didn't see her watching him. But, a few times, he had caught her looking. When that happened, she would blush and quickly avert her gaze. So far, he hadn't said anything about catching her red-handed.

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at herself. With every day that passed, she found herself becoming more and more distracted by him. Honestly, what was her problem?

She shook herself and forcibly turned herself back to her work. A moment later, Hermione heard the sound of his footsteps approaching her. He had moved directly behind her and was working on righting all of the paintings on the wall.

"How was the rest of your night, Miss Granger? Did you have any more nightmares?"

Hermione froze. She was shocked that he seemed to be asking after her welfare. "No, sir. No more nightmares."

Her professor did not look at her as he spoke. "What was it about?"

She hesitated; she didn't like to talk about that day with anyone. "It was about the night at Malfoy Manor. They're always about that night."

Now, he turned to pin her with his dark gaze. His expression was unfathomable. "I could brew you a Dreamless Sleep Potion if you'd like."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Did he actually care about her nightmares? "Oh, that's very kind. Thank you, but I'll be fine. They don't happen every night anymore."

When he did not speak, she cleared her throat nervously. "What about you, sir? Do you have nightmares?"

She expected him to ignore her or change the subject. But he gave the slightest shrug of his shoulder and said, "Occasionally."

For probably the first time in her life, Hermione was at a loss for words. In an attempt to change the subject, she smirked. "Did you have a hangover when you woke up this morning?"

Severus scoffed. "No, I did not."

"Do you drink often?" she wondered, that same smirk playing around her lips.

Snape glared at her, but he didn't seem to be truly angry. "Definitely not as often as I should. Especially since you came into my life."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and returned his mock glare. "That was uncalled for. If anything, I'm the one who should be the alcoholic."

For a moment, she worried that she had gone too far with her last comment. But then, he smiled again and her heart began to thump frantically against her chest. She wanted to keep that smile all to herself; she couldn't bear to share it.

"Get back to work, Miss Granger."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, sir."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight** **:** **Battered, Not Broken**

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Hermione turned from the work she was doing to see Ginny storm into the room. "Hey, Ginny."

"What's going on?" Ginny stood with crossed arms and furrowed brows.

Hermione's heart dropped. She'd never been a particularly good liar. But the Headmistress had ordered her to keep it all a secret. "What are you talking about?"

"You haven't spoken to any of us in days and then you suddenly decide you don't want to stay at our house. Why have you been avoiding everyone?" Ginny asked.

Snape was on the opposite end of the room, seemingly immersed in his work. Hermione had become painfully aware of his presence over the past few days. She knew he was eavesdropping on their conversation, and it made her self-conscious about her choice of words.

"Er … I'm sorry, Ginny. But I haven't been avoiding anyone. I've just been busy," Hermione said weakly, floundering under Ginny's intense gaze.

She heard the footsteps as Snape came to stand imposingly just behind her. "Miss Granger has been assisting me with a research project. I offered her a room here at Hogwarts for its duration so that she would be on hand whenever I required her assistance. Does that answer all of your questions, Miss Weasley?"

Ginny scowled. Even after the Wizengamot's verdict, most of the Wizarding world still distrusted Severus Snape. And Ginny, always being one to hold a grudge, was no exception. Hermione could see the pure loathing in the girl's gaze. "Well, why didn't you just tell me that?"

"I was getting there," Hermione replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "But you were too busy yelling at me."

Ginny sighed, but her posture did not relax. Hermione could tell that she didn't believe them and that she wasn't going to just forget it. "Fine, I'm sorry. You know I worry about you," Ginny said, placing both hands on Hermione's shoulders.

Snape rolled his eyes and swiftly returned to his side of the room. Hermione had to fight off the urge to giggle. "I know, Ginny. How about we have lunch together today?"

"Deal." Ginny released her and gave one last smile before heading out the door.

Once Hermione was sure she was gone, she glanced at Snape. He was already watching her intently, and his attention made her flush. She moved closer, hand outstretched, even though she hadn't yet felt any pain. His fingertips lightly trailed across the back of her knuckles and she shivered.

"That girl is going to be trouble for us," he said smoothly.

Hermione sighed, closing her eyes, exhaustion suddenly washing over her like a tidal wave. She couldn't even bring herself to argue with his assessment. Ginny had never been the type to just let things go, especially when it came to her friends. "I know."

"You are a terrible liar, Miss Granger. How you've survived this long is an utter mystery to me," Snape said with a smirk settled on his lips.

Hermione scoffed. "Well, excuse me for not having as much experience at it as you."

He was smiling again, and Hermione was sure her heart would burst. "You are such a Hufflepuff sometimes."

She narrowed her eyes playfully, crossing her arms over her chest. "Still better than being a Slytherin."

" _Nothing_ is better than being a Slytherin. That's enough of you slacking off, Miss Granger. There's still a lot of work to do before term starts next week."

* * *

Severus Snape and the rest of the staff had been crowded into the Headmistress' Office for a last minute meeting before the start of term. Hermione had also been included and was currently leaning on the wall next to him. She seemed to be at ease by his side, and he had to wonder if that was merely part of the spell or if she'd just become accustomed to his presence.

"Now," McGonagall began, "on to our last order of business. You are all aware of Miss Granger's predicament." The entire room's gaze was now on Hermione, and Snape could see the flush rising in her face. "You will be attending your classes as normal, Miss Granger. If you need to see Professor Snape in between classes and happen to be late, the professors have been told to look the other way. Your health is of the utmost importance to us.

Also, everyone who's been informed of your situation has taken a vow of silence. But you will have to do your part to keep things secret. If the wrong people find out, it will mean serious trouble for Hogwarts _and_ both of you. Does everyone understand?"

A murmur of agreement filled the room. McGonagall smiled tightly and clapped her hands. "Alright, then. I'm sure you all have preparation to do before the students return tomorrow. You're all dismissed. Except for you, Severus. I'd like to speak to you if you don't mind."

The staff began to trickle out of the office. Hermione pushed herself off the wall, shooting him one last questioning glance before she followed them. No doubt she would be interrogating him later tonight. Nosey little Gryffindor.

When the room was finally empty, McGonagall gave him a pitying look. "How are you doing, Severus?"

Snape shot a glance at Dumbledore's frame, which was thankfully unoccupied at the moment. "I'm fine, Minerva."

Her head tilted slightly. "Are you _really_?"

There was a fire roaring in the fireplace just behind the older woman. He stared at this instead of making eye contact as he said, "It was getting … _easier_. I can't imagine that will continue after tomorrow."

She nodded. "You're probably right. Classes will be stressful at first. But then, you will become accustomed to your schedule, and, hopefully, it will get easier again. I have faith in you, Severus. After all, you two have more in common than I think you realize."

Snape arched a brow. "Oh?"

"Yes. You are both intelligent. You're both brave and have seen horrors others couldn't begin to imagine. And strong because the war did not break either of you. A little battered, perhaps, but not broken."

He scoffed at her appraisal. Minerva was his only friend and the only one who ever talked about him like this. Even after everything he had done, every terrible mistake, she was still in his corner. He was eternally grateful for it, even if he didn't understand or deserve it.

"If you say so, Minerva. I should probably go. Try to enjoy your last night of peace and quiet." Snape quickly turned away before she could say something else that was meant to be reassuring and began making the long way down to his office. Minerva's words echoed in his mind the entire way there.


End file.
